Closed rooms, empty stalls
No more music through these halls
Corridors owned by the silence
No more footsteps from rowdy students
The white concrete is cold
Classes these rooms no longer hold
The old red brick hushed
No more tales of long-forgotten memories to spill with each touch
No more couples to see walking side by side in the pathwalks,
No more howling and ball-dribbling in the gym,
No more sweet noises to surround my being
I look at the green field and still see people playing
Their voices in my ears ringing
But the images are vague, the sound faint
That’s all that’s left when I came
Sadly, it just wasn’t the same
[this was the version after a workshop in my CW10 class under CJ Javier]
